


NOT a Crush

by AceLee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Attempt at Humor, Humor, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Lance is an eccentric boi, M/M, Pidge is the only sane one, Pre-Relationship, neighbors!au, stupid arguments to hide crushes, they're both idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 17:43:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceLee/pseuds/AceLee
Summary: Someone is out for Lance's garden and who other than probably KEITH because he's probably JEALOUS of Lance's perfect beautiful garden which is BETTER than Keith's. So, like any normal person would, Lance is going to confront him about it (and ignore all his pesky feelings, that are DEFINITELY NOT INDICATING A CRUSH)





	NOT a Crush

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm kind of new at writing so constructive critisims would be great! For example, things like "it moves to fast" or "these thoughts don't connect" or "more imagery" or "less parenthesis" is greatly appreciated as well as spelling and grammer issues! Encouragement would also be nice :-)

 “He did it again!” Lance yelled, pressing his face and hands against the front of window that looked out over the yard to the house across the street with nice hydrangeas.

“Who did what again?” Hunk called from the busy kitchen. Lance could hear oil sizzling in a pan as Hunk made them eggs and bacon for breakfast, a usual Saturday morning tradition.

“Keith!” Lance said, turning away from the window and into the kitchen, his fuzzy blue bathrobe swooshed behind him and his blue kitty slippers squeaked as he walked. He dropped heavily into his seat and grabbed his utensils, “Why I oughta-“

“Maybe you should talk to him?” Hunk suggested, sliding some eggs and bacon onto Lance’s plate as Lance made jabbing motions into the air with his fork and butter knife, “Give him a piece of your mind.”

“Yeah!” Lance stabbed a sunny side up egg and stuffed it into his mouth, “Give him a piece of my mind!"

Lance wiped some runny egg yolk off from the side of his mouth, “You’re a genius, Hunk!”

“I know,” Hunk shrugged, cleaning his hands on his ‘kiss the cook’ apron that Lance got him for his birthday, before taking his place across from Lance.

Lance chugged down the rest of his milk and shot out of his seat, nearly causing the chair to tip over.

“Keith won’t know what hit him,” Lance declared, slamming the milk glass down.

“Whoo,” Hunk said, chewing on a bacon strip, “Go, Lance.”

Lance puffed out his chest, flung the tail of his fuzzy blue bathrobe behind him like a cap, and marched out the front door, his fuzzy blue kitty slippers squeaking. Why hadn't he thought about this before? This was probably the reason why Hunk was the genius friend.

Lance marched down the driveway, past Hunk’s and his’ yellow and blue mailbox, and up Keith’s driveway to his dark red front door. He knocked sharply and then crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently, planning the conversation in his head which of course ended in him winning, Keith apologizing, and maybe Keith buying him a drink to make it up, NOT AS A DATE, obviously, just two bros, you know? Chilling in a bar, five feet a part because they’re not gay, except that Keith _is_ gay and Lance is bi, but Lance doesn’t like him like that anyways.

So what if Keith wasn’t bad to look at, even with the outdated mullet, and so what if Lance thought it was adorable whenever he saw Keith doing something cute, like petting the stray cats in the neighborhood or teaching kids how to ride a bicycle and fight or holding babies or whatever, who wouldn't think that was cute? And maybe Lance likes to take a quick look at Keith’s Instagram from time to time, which wasn’t stalking no matter what Pidge said. And maybe Lance thought it was kinda cool when Keith planted his really cool motorcycle in the cul-de-sac and rolled up his sleeves to reveal really toned biceps, which Lance did not stare at, and fixed up his bike. And maybe sometimes when he glanced at Keith his insides were all warm and tingly, probably with ANGER because Keith is his RIVAL, but some may even say that it was because Lance had a sort of…crush. NOPE. WRONG. ABORT THOUGHTS. ABORT.

Lance shook his head to clear his thoughts and knocked again more forcefully.

“Hello?” Lance yelled when nobody answered. He spammed the doorbell. _Ding ding ding ding dingding dingdingding ding._ “Keeeeeith! Are you home? I have a bone to pick with you! Hellooo! HE-“

The door swung open. Keith stood in the doorway, hair rumpled adorably, one hand braced on the door. Lance blinked.

“What,” Keith said, flatly.

Lance jabbed his pointer finger into Keith’s chest, which was very solid by the way, “Stop trying to drown my gardenias!”

“What,” Keith replied, a scowl forming on  his face, “are you talking about.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Lance said, gesturing wildly, “You saw me water my gardenias yesterday afternoon while you were watering _your_ flowers and to SPITE me, because my garden is better then your garden obviously, you snuck over to my yard in the middle of the night and overwatered my gardenias so they would die!”

“Are you listening to yourself? That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard,” Keith said angrily, “Why would I be jealous of your flowers?”

“Uh, because they’re better!” Lance said in a "duh" tone he had perfected over the years.

Keith scoffed.

“Your’s aren’t even-wait,” Keith looked over Lance’s shoulder, “Shiro’s flowers are wet too!”

“What,” Lance looked over at the garden which was indeed also wet, “Maybe, you knew that I would find out that you did it! So to throw off suspicion you overwatered your garden too!”

“Or maybe you saw that your garden was wet, which I didn’t do, so you decided to wet my brother’s garden because you thought I did it, which I didn’t." Keith yelled.

“Are you blaming me for your wet garden?” Lance said incredulously.

“Are you blaming me for _your_ wet garden?” Keith shot back.

“Maybe I am!”

“Then maybe I am, too!”

“Hey, knuckleheads,” a voice interrupted them. Lance was suddenly aware of how close Keith’s face had gotten to his. His pores were kinda big (maybe Lance should recommend some of his skin care products to Keith), his lips were chapped (not that he was staring at Keith’s lips), his lashes were long, his eyes were not gray as he had previously thought, but a startling shade of purple (Violet, maybe?), and he had dark, fierce eyebrows like a hawk and it struck a chord in Lance’s chest.

Lance pulled his eyes away from Keith’s face and turned to look at a young girl with short mousy hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and a strange long-sleeved white and green shirt despite the hot weather. By her leg was a panting greyhound which Lance knew was named, Bae Bae, the loyal dog of the Holt family, commonly seen around the youngest member of the family, Katie “Pidge” Holt-Gunderson.

“Oh hey, Pidge,” Lance casually lifted a hand in greeting as if he had not just been in a heated argument with Keith.

Pidge looked unamused, “The reason why both of your yards are wet, and why _everyone’s_ yards are wet, is because it rained last night not because one of you guys went on a garden-killing spree.”

Oh, yikes. It had rained last night and for the past month because rain is a natural thing, and Lance had been mistakenly blaming his crus- RIVAL, his rival, for trying to destroy his garden. Lance exchanged a look with Keith who, from the look on his face, also realized that they both had made a fool of themselves in front of the entire neighborhood at the early hour of 9 am. Keith nodded slightly at Lance which Lance took as ‘we gotta fix this’. Lance blinked slowly back. They both turned to Pidge.

“Uh, we knew that,” Keith said, his casual talk sounded a little force and Pidge must of heard it because she raised an eyebrow at them.

 “So you weren’t just arguing about wh-“

“Nope,” Lance interrupted, “In fact, we weren’t even arguing.”

“You weren’t?” Pidge asked flatly.

“We weren’t?” Keith whispered. Lance looked at him.

“Trust me. Play along,” Lance turned back to Pidge, “Nope, we were talking about the, uh, new restaurant that just opened at the mall. The, uh…”

Lance looked at Keith for help, but he stared blankly back, “The um…”

“The Galaxy?” Pidge said, her arms were crossed.

“Yeah!” Lance said relieved, “The Galaxy. I haven’t been there yet, so I came over here to ask Keith if he had been there yet.”

“Which I haven’t,” Keith added quickly.

“So he offered to take us both there to try it out.” Lance finished.

“He what?” Pidge asked incredulously.

“I what?” Keith asked. Lance nudged him. “Oh yeah I did. We’re, uh, going for lunch at 12-”

“One,” Lance coughed.

“At 1,” Keith corrected.

 “What a coincidence," Pidge said, a smirk growing on her face, "I’ll be at the Galaxy at 1 today too. I guess I’ll see you there.”

Damn the green gremlin, now Lance would actually have to go on a date- a HANGOUT, a hangout, with Keith today at 1. Oh well, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do anyways.

“See you there,” Keith said like he was accepting a challenge.

 Pidge nodded and left. Lance looked at Keith, “Okay, pick me up at 12:30?”

“Oh, um, yeah.”

“Great see you then,” Lance replied, and he turned to walk home, his blue kitty slippers squeaked loudly. When Lance was at his door he looked back at Keith’s house just in time to see the door shut.

“Hey, you're back! How did it go,” Hunk called from his work station room where he was tinkering with bits of metal.

Lance looked into the mirror hanging in the entrance. He wiped off his milk-stache he had forgotten he had with the sleeve of his fuzzy blue bathrobe, “Not...bad."

**Author's Note:**

> Merry crimmus and happy new ear!!!!111~~!!!


End file.
